


Purple Rain

by Lothiriel84



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, F/M, Past Drug Use, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they meet he's thirty, she's twenty-three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ace Of Spades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [solrosan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/gifts).



The first time they meet he’s thirty, she’s twenty-three. He’s as high as a kite, and her fingers are gentle through his hair as he surrenders to a restless slumber; he knows who sent her but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter as long as she’s not scolding him like his brother would.

Somewhere through the haze in his brain he thinks that if he could stay like this forever, then he wouldn’t need to use anymore. He doesn’t tell her, he’s too stubborn and she’s too smart to play mother to her boss’ wayward little brother; and if Mycroft does guess, at least he’s decent enough not to point it out loud.

 

* * *

 

He keeps a weather eye on her along the years, watches her as she flirts with countless men; she smirks as she rejects them all, a Mona Lisa with a BlackBerry and a licence to kill.

It’s only after she turns down John Watson that he starts to wonder. She likes men, that much is apparent, and yet he’s not sure she’s ever had anyone; he hasn’t had anyone either and most people think it’s weird, but perhaps it’s not after all.

They’re sniggering at Mycroft over a glass of wine when she toes off her high heels and climbs into his lap. He’s about to stop her when she places a reassuring hand on his shoulder; that’s when he finally sees the truth, and allows himself to relax into her touch.

She tastes like the wine they’ve been drinking, rich and heady with a faint note of raspberry. He threads his fingers through her hair, and feels her smile against his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Years go by, and many things happen. St Bart’s. Serbia. Appledore. The East Wind coming.

He knows she’s always there in the background, fighting for England and the greater good, and the thought is enough to give him some measure of strength. He never tells John, for he wouldn’t understand any of it; Mary, on the other hand, she can tell when he’s fibbing.

“Go to her, you twerp,” she prompts him as soon as he steps out of the plane; her husband frowns, but Sherlock only smiles at her in gratitude.

Andrea doesn’t say a word when he shows up on her doorstep; she merely stands on her tiptoes, wraps her arms around his neck, and he knows he’s come home at last.


	2. Ace Of Hearts

Most people think he’s a freak, but then she’s not most people. He may be arrogant as hell, but he’s also vulnerable in ways few would expect; it’s no wonder that his brother worries about him constantly.

He’s different, but so is she, and she doesn’t mind. Drugs are never the answer, she hopes he will understand that in time; in the meanwhile, she cradles his head in her lap and watches over him as he eventually falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

John Watson is sweet, she thinks to herself as the man climbs out of the car; he’s going to be the perfect companion for Sherlock, keep him entertained while keeping an eye on him as well.

As for herself, she doesn’t need a companion. Men are so silly, making passes at her when she’s clearly not interested. The last one who tried to impose his unwanted attentions on her ended up spending the night at the A&E she wishes that people would understand that not everyone has the same needs and desires, and that society would learn to respect each and every one of them regardless.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock is such a dork when it comes to anything connected to sentiment, she’s not sure he’s ever bothered to acknowledge the fact that they’re both asexual. He looks vaguely scared when she sits across his lap and ghosts her lips over his own; it’s only when he realises she’s not a threat that he allows her to close the distance between them and kiss him.

It feels so nice, being held in a way that is not even remotely sexual. She revels in the feeling of his fingers in her hair, and sighs happily into his mouth.

 

* * *

 

She waits until the two brothers have finished exchanging barbs, then brings Sherlock his Belstaff coat. He smiles and lets her help him into it, a simple gesture and yet oddly intimate for the two of them.

After that it’s back to business – terrorists and weddings, fake girlfriends and sly blackmailers. She’s the one Mycroft calls after the shooting, the one he almost begs to help him clear up this mess.

And she does, to the very best of her abilities.

 

* * *

 

In the end she decides to play the trump card of Moriarty’s supposed return in order to get Sherlock back. It’s only when he shows up at her door that she allows herself to breathe again.


End file.
